Loss, Love and Sacrifice
by DearestEnemy
Summary: A retelling of the Human Noble story in Dragon Age: Origins from Samantha Cousland's perspective. Join her as she learns how to deal with betrayal, responsibility and love in her attempt to rid Ferelden of the darkspawn threat. CH 4: Alistair and the recruits find the old Warden Outpost and run into a suspicious looking woman. Samantha learns something frightening about herself.
1. Chapter 1: Darling, go with Duncan

_This is a retelling of the human noble story in the video game Dragon Age: Origins. All of which is property of Bioware and David Gaider. I'm simply putting it into words and taking a few liberties here and there. No copyright infringement intended. I do not claim to own any of the characters, direct quotes or the bulk of the story. If you're bothered to read it, enjoy! If not, no worries. Feel free to leave reviews. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I do want to better my writing, after all._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Darling, go with Duncan.<strong>

"Lady Cousland?"

The sound of Duncan's voice pulled Samantha from the dark thoughts that had plagued her for the past number of days. She was unsure of how much time had passed since she and the Grey Warden had left her home in Highever. The days seemed eternal and the night's longer still with little sleep to offer her comfort. The guilt she felt for leaving her mother and father behind to die was drowning her. She found it difficult to escape the images that had been burned into her mind. They would flash before her eyes without warning, leaving her gasping for air as she tried desperately not to succumb to any more tears. Her mother, hovering above her father on the hard ground, wet with his blood. There had been so much of it. Maker, she would never forget the sight. Nor the fear that had clutched her chest when she and her mother had burst into the room and found him like that. Oriana and poor, sweet Oren had suffered a similar fate. Her nephew, only a child, run through without a thought. She could not rid her mind of his lifeless face, eyes unblinking and empty as they stared towards her until her mother bent to shut them. She could only pray that he had not suffered long. What heartless creature would do that to an innocent child? Anger boiled her blood and she longed to wrap her fingers around Arl Rendon Howe's throat and squeeze until all life drained from him. No, more than that. She wanted him to suffer. She wanted him to know what it must have felt like for that little boy. She wanted him to know nothing but terror before she took his life from him.

_Darling, go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me._

Those were her mother's last words to her. She shouldn't have listened. She should have remained, insisted that she would rather die with them then be apart. She would never forgive herself for leaving them. Perhaps if she'd only stayed they might have had a chance. Perhaps she could have done something to save them. Of course, Duncan had not given her the option to. He had pulled her with him out of the servant's exit, despite her struggles. She knew she should be grateful to him for saving her life, and she was, but she also hated him for it. He needed more Wardens. That had been his priority. He had said so himself.

_What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. _

Perhaps to him but she was not so convinced. How could there be anything worse than what she had suffered? There could be no worse pain than this. In one night she had lost everyone she held dear. _Almost_ everyone. She longed to see Fergus again, though she dreaded telling her older brother what had happened in his absence. How could she break the news that his only son was slain by order of the very man they had all considered a close family friend?

_Tell Fergus what has happened, _her father had pleaded. _See that justice is done._

She would. She had promised him and she would not break that vow. She would not stop until Howe lay dead at her feet. She would find Fergus and together they would get vengeance for what had been done.

A wet nose brushed against her hand and Samantha glanced down at the mabari war hound pressed against her side. It was a relief to have him with her. Hunter was a mischievous hound and often created more trouble than she would have liked but he had been with her for as long as she could remember and she held him dear. He was a fiercely loyal and loving companion that she could not bear to be parted from.

Smiling sadly, Samantha tugged affectionately on the overgrown animal's ear and then turned her attention towards Duncan, who had been the one to call for it in the first place.

"Hmm?" She had not the strength to pull forth many words in the last few days. The sorrow and anger she felt inside seemed to grip her throat every time she had tried to speak, making it difficult to keep her words coherent. Eventually, she had settled for simple, quick answers and Duncan had been gracious enough to keep from pressing for more.

"We have arrived at Ostagar," he informed her, his dark eyes studying her carefully. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Perhaps he was beginning to rethink his decision to recruit her into the Grey Wardens. She supposed she couldn't blame him. She had been consumed by her emotions since they had departed Highever and even she was unsure that she would be fit for battle if she remained that way. There were important things to do, she knew that. She would have to pull herself together and focus. She _wanted_ to. She longed for a distraction from her thoughts. Walking left her too free to get swallowed up by them and she was ready to be put to work.

"The Grey Warden camp is on the other side of the bridge." He lifted a gauntlet covered hand to gesture and Samantha turned her gaze forward. She had been staring down at her feet for so long that she hadn't even noticed that they were approaching the large fortress. It was impressive to look upon. The stone walls were built high and thick, good for defence in battle. She had to agree that this was the best place to take on the darkspawn threat. If they failed here, she was unsure what would happen. She could only hope that they would succeed in keeping the monsters from invading the rest of Ferelden where so many lives could be lost.

"Ah, finally!" Daveth's voice made her jump as he moved eagerly past her towards the entrance, his arms raised above his head as he stretched. "I thought we'd never arrive." Ser Jory joined him as he hurried forward, though he seemed less excited about what lay ahead of them. This was, after all, where they would battle the darkspawn. Samantha could not blame him for being a little reluctant. She had never encountered one herself but she knew well enough that they were the stuff of nightmares. She was not eager to look upon one much less send an arrow through its head.

The pair had joined them just outside of Highever and Samantha had learned that they had been recruited before her and had been waiting for Duncan to return before they journeyed to Ostagar. Daveth was a cheerful fellow and had done the majority of the talking on their travels. He had explained one night over dinner that he had been a thief in Denerim and Duncan had found him when he cut his purse and was caught. Ser Jory, on the other hand, was a cautious man who worried over everything. He had offered his story the same night, explaining that he had secured Duncan's approval when he won a tourney in Highever the previous month. Samantha had been unable to attend, much to her disappointment. Her mother had insisted she would be of better use attending some formal affair in an attempt to find a man willing to secure her hand. She had had little interest in her mother's attempt to marry her to some upstanding nobleman and had spent most of the time she should have been socialising, chasing the children in attendance around the room. It had been good fun until a table was knocked over and the refreshments were devoured by her mabari.

"The king's forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself," Duncan explained as they stepped through a tall archway and onto the sturdy stone bridge that made for safe passage over the deep valley, beneath. "There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped, here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall."

"You really believe this is a Blight, then?" Samantha asked, watching Hunter as he hurried ahead, sniffing everything in his path and almost tripping Ser Jory in his excitement. The knight swore and threw her an unimpressed glance. She clicked her tongue to call the hound back but scratched behind his ears instead of scolding him. The man had been getting on her nerves, anyway. He had been more than respectful upon learning that she was the youngest Cousland but his incessant complaining had grown more than a little irritating considering she had so much more to be upset about and had kept her feelings to herself. Or had made a considerable effort to, at least.

"I do," Duncan replied with a firm nod. "I know there is an archdemon behind this." He looked very tired, she suddenly noticed. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and she wondered if he had been getting as little sleep as she had. Perhaps the darkspawn threat was worrying him more than he had revealed. Of course, she hadn't exactly been the most attentive. Her grief had taken priority over her concern for those she had been travelling with.

"In any case, we should proceed with the joining ritual without delay." Duncan came to a stop and motioned for the three of them to wait while he spoke. By now they had reached the other side of the bridge and stood just outside of the camp. Samantha's attention was drawn away from all of the goings on around them at this news and she lowered her pack to the ground while her companions spoke.

"A ritual?" Daveth repeated, tilting his head curiously. "Nobody mentioned anything about a ritual." It was true. Duncan had not told them what would await them in Ostagar. She had presumed that they might have to take vows but from Duncan's tone it was clear that there was more to it than that.

"I had no idea there were more tests after getting recruited," Ser Jory agreed, his eyebrows coming together in a worried frown. "What exactly does this ritual entail?" Samantha was eager to hear more, too. She didn't like being unprepared or kept in the dark about something that would affect her, personally. Clearly this was something that warranted some level of concern or surely Duncan would have spoken of it during their time travelling to Ostagar.

"I will speak more of it soon enough but I must first meet with the king and inform him of our arrival. For now, Daveth, go to the mess tent and find something to eat for the three of you. Ser Jory, I would like you to visit the mage's camp and secure some healing supplies; bandages and the like. Tell them that you are a Warden recruit. They will know what to give you." Duncan turned his gaze to Samantha and she realized with bitter disappointment that he did not plan to take her with him to meet with the king.

"I need to speak with King Cailan," she insisted before he could instruct her and he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

"I will inform the king about what happened to your family, do not fear. Howe _will_ be punished for his treachery."

Samantha crossed her arms over her chest, barely resisting the urge to pout, or worse, cry. It wasn't the same. _She_ was the one that needed to tell him. He wouldn't understand just how devastating an attack it had been unless he spoke with _her_.Saw the pain in_ her _eyes_. _Duncan could sense her tantrum brewing, no doubt, because he hurried to speak before she could interrupt him again.

"Have patience, my lady. The darkspawn will soon be upon us and we must be ready to face them. There is another Grey Warden somewhere in the camp by the name of Alistair. Seek him out and have him find you new armour." Samantha glanced down at the leather she currently wore. It was light and easy to move in but it had been made for her to wear during her weapon training lessons and not fit to properly protect her in a real battle. She was lucky that she had made it through Howe's men without more extensive injuries.

"Once you are ready," Duncan continued, "We will meet back here and I will reveal what is expected of you." Daveth and Ser Jory nodded their agreement and departed. Duncan still had his hand on Samantha's shoulder and he patted it once more before lifting away.

"Should I find your brother, I will inform him of your arrival. In the meantime, try to focus on the task at hand. I understand how difficult this has been for you but you must be strong now. If you are to be a Grey Warden, you must act like one."

Samantha sighed heavily and let her arms fall to her sides. She knew what he said was true and that it was time for her to push past her personal feelings and offer her aid to the best of her ability. She had promised her father that she would do her best for him and feeling sorry for herself would only hinder her.

"I understand. I will do my best," she nodded, lifting her gaze to his. He smiled reassuringly at her before turning away. She watched his retreating back for a moment before Hunter's impatient barking got her moving.

"Alright, I'm coming," she sighed, her fingers moving to the worn leather collar around the hound's neck. "Let's go find this Alistair."

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><p><em><strong>AN:** I figured it would make more sense for Daveth and Ser Jory to actually travel with Duncan rather than waiting around at Ostagar for weeks on end. I will be changing little things here and there so the story better fits what's going on in my head. Hopefully that won't bother people too much. If there's anything you'd like me to include in future chapters, feel free to suggest things and please do review! It helps me to understand what people are enjoying and hopefully I can become a better writer in the long run. We will find Alistair in the next chapter so hopefully it'll be a little more entertaining than this one. Thanks for taking the time to read this, whoever you are._


	2. Chapter 2: Ah yes, Alistair

_This is a retelling of the human noble story in the video game Dragon Age: Origins. All of which is property of Bioware and David Gaider. I'm simply putting it into words and taking a few liberties here and there. No copyright infringement intended. I do not claim to own any of the characters, direct quotes or the bulk of the story._

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Ah, yes. Alistair.<strong>

Ostagar was bustling with activity as everyone readied themselves for the coming battle. It didn't dawn on Samantha that she had no idea what this Alistair looked like until she found herself in the middle of a group of soldiers. It would have helped if the Grey Wardens wore a specific set of armour but that wasn't the case. At least, not that she'd seen so far. She sighed in exasperation, wishing she'd thought to ask Duncan for a description of him before he had left. She had found no sign of Fergus, either, and it was disheartening. She had to believe that he was safe. She couldn't lose him too.

"You seem a little lost. Is there anything I can help you with?" The voice came from an elderly mage who was leaning against a tree not too far from her. Hunter immediately bounded over at the sound of an inviting voice, barking happily and sniffing heartily at the woman's robes.

"Oh, my. He _is_ a friendly creature, isn't he?" she chuckled as she attempted to keep her balance. Samantha hurried over and wrestled the hound back a few steps.

"I'm sorry. I'll have to lock him in the pens with the rest of the mabari if he continues to be such a nuisance." Her voice held a warning and Hunter whined, pressing his nose into her hand as a way of an apology. She gave him another stern glance and he sat down beside her, bowing his head obediently.

"It is no trouble," the mage smiled, straightening up and smoothing down her robes. "I am Wynne, one of the mages summoned by the king. You are one of Duncan's new recruits, are you not? A Ser Jory stopped by not long ago and mentioned that there was also a young woman hoping to join the ranks of the Wardens."

"Yes, that's me." Though she wasn't sure she hoped that at all. It would be much more convenient for her to simply seek out Fergus rather than worry about all of this darkspawn business but she had given her word and she would not go back on it. "Samantha," she introduced herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Wynne."

"The pleasure is mine." There was a pause as the mage considered her. "Are you well?" Wynne's brow creased in concern and Samantha realized that she must still look rather distressed. She forced a smile and nodded, her fingers seeking out the top of Hunter's head.

"Yes, just a little overwhelmed. Duncan asked me to seek out a Grey Warden named Alistair but I'm unsure where to find him. _Or_ what he looks like, for that matter."

There was something a little like amusement in the mage's eyes and she chuckled softly. Samantha tilted her head in curiosity, unsure what might have warranted that reaction.

"Ah, yes. Alistair. I do believe he was sent to speak with one of my fellow mages. You should be able to find him just north of here," the mage offered, gesturing helpfully in the direction she should take. Hunter rose and began to trot towards where she had pointed with his nose to the ground. Samantha didn't know what he was sniffing so intently because he could not know Alistair's scent without having met him.

"Thank you, Wynne," She nodded, making to follow after the dog. He had paused when he realized she wasn't with him and had turned his head to look for her, appearing deceivingly sweet with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Take care, my dear," the elderly woman called after her and Samantha lifted her hand to wave a farewell before turning to the task at hand. There was an incline in the flagstones a little way ahead that lead to a rather spacious area in which tables and chairs were being organized. Two elves darted about, muttering about readying the place for the king. Samantha assumed she had come too far but then a voice echoed against the stone pillars and she turned to her right, noticing for the first time that two men were arguing not far from her. She started forward once more, jogging lightly up a second ramp and towards them.

"Haven't Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?" the first man, a mage, demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. He sounded exasperated and regarded the younger man with a measurable degree of disdain.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, ser mage. She desires your presence," came the patient reply. This was Alistair, then. At least, she hoped it was. She did not relish the thought of having to continue her search for the man. Plus, this one was handsome. She was well aware that _that_ should be the last thing on her mind but it was difficult not to think it the moment she laid eyes on him. He had a strong, angular jaw; the kind that they wrote about in those Orlesian romance novels she'd once found in the library. His hair was a rich blonde and charmingly tousled as though he had been running his hands through it absentmindedly. It was his eyes that really drew her attention, however. They were rich, liquid amber in the light. She had always been helplessly attracted to brown eyes. It was probably a good thing she hadn't drawn their attention just yet lest they catch her ogling.

"What her Reverence_ desires_ is of no concern to me. I am busy helping the Grey Wardens by the king's orders, I might add." The mage's answer was clipped and it was clear that he thought himself above whatever it was he had been tasked with.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?"

Samantha hid her smile behind her fist. Clearly Alistair – if it truly was him – was enjoying this. She could hear it in his voice. His words were polite but his tone betrayed him. Hunter had finished his inspection of a patch of grass that had erupted from between two flagstones and strayed a little too close to the pair.

"Wait," she whispered and he tilted his large head quizzically at her. "Don't be rude. Let them finish their conversation," she insisted, patting her leg until he returned to her side and plonked down next to her, letting out a heavy breath. Her nanny, whom she'd fondly called 'Nan' long after she had retired those duties, had always thought she was a little touched in the head because of the way she spoke to her hound. Samantha didn't think it so strange. Hunter knew exactly what she was saying to him. Mabari were intelligent creatures and her own was cleverest of them all, she was sure of it. When he wasn't chewing on whatever waste he found lying around, at least.

"Tell her I will _not_ be harassed in this manner!" the mage fumed, stepping towards the blonde haired man and stamping the end of his staff into the stone ground as though to remind him what he could do with it.

"Yes," the younger man agreed sarcastically. "_I _was harassing _you _by delivering a message." He didn't appear to be bothered by the mage's subtle threat, if he noticed it at all.

"Your glibness does you no credit," the mage sniffed, beginning to turn away as he tired of the conversation. Samantha had to disagree. She found it quite amusing, actually.

"Here I thought we were getting along so well," he sighed in response, clearly having decided not to take any of this very seriously. Perhaps he was not the Grey Warden she sought. He seemed very different to Duncan who had been _quite_ serious and motivated for the entirety of their journey. She had appreciated that, at the time. She had not been in the humour for, well, humour.

"I was even going to name one of my children after you," he continued. "The _grumpy _one."

Samantha couldn't help the giggle that left her at that, though she quickly sobered up once the two men turned to look at her. The mage frowned disapprovingly but his companion grinned, seemingly pleased that someone had been around to hear his joke. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and began to explain why she was here but the mage interrupted her.

"Enough!" he snapped, waving an arm dismissively. "I will speak to the woman if I must!" He stormed towards Samantha, not slowing down as he neared her. "Get out of my way, fool!" He shoved her aside in his anger and she stumbled, taken off guard. Large hands closed around her waist before she could topple to the ground and a vicious growl erupted from Hunter as he threw himself onto the man who had dared harm his mistress.

"Are you alright?"

The words were murmured close to her ear and Samantha did her best to resist the heat that flooded to her cheeks. His voice was more than a little appealing and his breath fluttered the loose tendrils of hair around her throat.

"Yes. Thank you." She steadied herself with his help and turned to look up at him. _Maker_, he was even more handsome up close! Taller too, though most everyone seemed tall to her petite frame. The top of her head just about reached his shoulder and she had to tilt it back a little to properly see his face. He smiled briefly at her until the sound of fierce growling and cries for help drew their attention. He hurriedly released his grip on her and she heard him clear his throat as she called Hunter off the mage whom he'd pinned on the ground. The hound was drooling excessively all over the poor man as he struggled beneath him and she held back a smile as she ordered the war dog to release him. He turned and barked happily before bounding over to them. Samantha affectionately ruffled the short fur between his ears and he leaned into the touch until his attention was stolen by the man next to her. He bent down and enthusiastically rubbed the hound's shoulders.

"Oh, who's a good boy?" he cooed. "You are! Yes, you are! What a smart puppy." Hunter, delighted by the praise and the fuss, thoroughly washed his new friend's face. Samantha smiled softly as he laughed and pushed the mabari back so that he could scrub the slobber from his skin.

"You know," he began as he rose to his feet. "One good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." They glanced back to see the mage dusting down his robes and snickered together as he made his retreat to the Revered Mother's tent. Samantha turned her attention back to the man she had, hopefully, been searching for.

"Please tell me you're Alistair?"

"Ooh. This doesn't happen very often," he remarked, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "People actually wanting me to be… well, me." His tone was light and it was clear his aim was to make a joke out of it but it struck her as a sad thing to say and she hoped that he didn't truly believe it. Of course, she didn't exactly know him but his eyes were kind and the friendly smile had yet to leave his lips. She didn't believe for a second that he could be a bad person.

"Oh," he frowned as he took in her concerned expression. "I'm not in trouble am I?"

"Not that I know of," Samantha assured him and he settled back into that easy smile, looking relieved. "Duncan sent me to find you, actually."

"Ah, then that must make you a new recruit. I'm glad to hear that he has returned safely."

Just about.

"Yes, we arrived not long ago. My name is Samantha and this beast of mine is Hunter," she introduced, gesturing to the mabari as he trotted about them, pausing every now and then to give Alistair a good sniff. He grinned in response, clasping her forearm and shaking it firmly once. The greeting was a pleasant change from all of the delicate hand touching she was accustomed to as the Teyrn's daughter. It was nice to be viewed as a comrade in arms and not a fragile little thing that might blow over in the breeze.

"Samantha," he repeated, leaning against one of the stone pillars nearby. She enjoyed the way her name sounded as it rolled off his tongue. "I must admit, I'm surprised that you're… well, you. Duncan never mentioned that he had planned to recruit any women._ Not _that there's anything wrong with _that_, of course, don't get me wrong. Ferelden's Wardens are sorely lacking in that department, actually," he mused, looking off to the side.

"Oh, you w_ant _more women in the Wardens, do you?" she asked mildly, hoping she seemed indifferent about his response. He grinned and returned his gaze to her.

"Would that be so terrible? _Not_ that I'm some drooling lecher, or anything," he insisted, holding a hand up in front of him to emphasize his point before shrugging away from the pillar. His cheeks grew pink and he looked endearingly bashful. "What I _mean _to say is that Duncan mentioned a Ser Gilmore in his last letter. Did he travel with you, too?"

Samantha's smile fell from her lips and the memory of what happened came crashing down upon her. She'd forgotten for a little while and she hated herself for it. She knew her family would rather she got on with her life but it didn't feel right. They should still be here. She should be back in Highever overseeing the castle while her father and Fergus joined the army here. She'd promised Oren that she'd teach him a little archery while her brother was away. Now he'd never have a chance to learn.

"Forgive me. I've said something to upset you," Alistair apologized softly, reaching towards her but she backed away a few steps, blinking fiercely to keep the prickling behind her eyes from turning to tears. Hunter whined as he sensed his mistress' distress, pushing his head underneath her hand.

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry." She took a deep breath and straightened. "Ser Gilmore was unable to join. I have come in his stead." It likely would have been better to tell him that Ser Gilmore would not be coming because he had died, valiantly, saving her family but it hurt too much to think about. She wasn't sure she could say it aloud.

"I see," Alistair nodded. He didn't press her for more or try to comfort her without knowing the reason she was upset and she was grateful for that. A brief, uncomfortable silence fell over them and she searched for something to say.

"Duncan sent you to find me. Does that mean he's ready to begin preparing for the Joining?"

Samantha was grateful for the change in conversation and she pushed her sorrow and guilt down a little further so that she could focus.

"Almost, I think," she answered, her voice unsure. "He did suggest that you could help me in finding new armour. Though, I am curious about what this 'Joining' involves."

Alistair's eyes flickered down across the leathers she currently wore and nodded. "Right. Of course. _That_ I can do. Let's visit the quartermaster. I'm sure he'll have something sturdy to fit you. He may be interested in purchasing what you're wearing now, if you're inclined to sell it. As pretty as it is, it won't last long against the darkspawn." He flushed after that and his eyes fixed firmly on the space above her head. "Ah… shall we, then?" he asked, moving around her and motioning for her to follow him back down the way she'd come. Hunter bounded ahead of them, disappearing into the crowd. Samantha watched him go, hoping he wouldn't cause too much trouble while she couldn't see him or he really would end up stuck in a pen with the other war hounds.

"As for the Joining," Alistair continued before she had the chance to press him for more. "There's not a lot I can tell you. Duncan will explain more once we return to the Grey Warden's camp. I _can_ say that you will be going out to the Kokari Wilds and I, as the junior member of the order, will be accompanying you and the other recruits."

Samantha considered that, nerves knotting low in her stomach. "So, it's a test of sorts?" she asked, a small, selfish part of her hoping she would fail so that she could turn her attention to finding Fergus. "That's where the darkspawn are coming from, isn't it? Are we expected to fight them?"

"It is and yes, you are. Don't worry. The bulk of the horde isn't expected to arrive just yet. We won't be overwhelmed by them," he assured her, though she didn't exactly find his words comforting. He glanced sideways at her as they walked, regarding her curiously.

"So, tell me," he urged. "Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?"

Samantha shook her head, wishing they could speak of something a little more pleasant but he seemed quite eager to talk about this. Perhaps this was part of her initiation and he would report back to Duncan on how well she had reacted.

"I've read about them but I've never actually seen one myself. I had hoped I would never have to," she admitted, looking down at her boots. She wondered if he would think her a coward. She wasn't. She had been ready to join Fergus and her father on the battlefield but her courage had been shaken at the loss of those she loved. It was a small relief to find Alistair nodding empathically beside her.

"When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another."

"Your words don't exactly fill me with confidence, Alistair. Can't you pat my head and tell me it'll all be okay?" she sighed, doing her best to keep his words from painting a picture in her head. Maker's breath, how was she supposed to be a Grey Warden when she could hardly bear to think about the darkspawn, let alone kill them?

Alistair laughed, though there was a tightness around his eyes.

"Well, I _can_ but it's better that you're prepared. In any case, you'll get some practice in before the battle. That can't hurt, right?"

"I suppose that's true," she agreed, albeit reluctantly.

They had reached the quartermaster by now and Alistair hurried forward to speak with him. Samantha paused briefly before following him, her eyes searching the crowd for Hunter. The mabari would find his way back to her easily enough. She just hoped he did not arrive with a mob of angry people behind him.

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><p><strong>AN: **_Not a lot happened in this chapter but we did get to meet Alistair which is always a good thing in my book. The next chapter will contain a little more action with the recruits heading out into the Wilds. Please leave a review letting me know what you did/didn't like so I can make improvements in the coming chapters. I do have a problem with writing too much about too little but I just get into it and the characters in my head take over so it's not even my fault, really. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying it. I'll do my best to post the next chapter soon and thanks for taking the time to read this. _


	3. Chapter 3: There are darkspawn about

_This is a retelling of the human noble story in the video game Dragon Age: Origins. All of which is property of Bioware and David Gaider. I'm simply putting it into words and taking a few liberties here and there. No copyright infringement intended. I do not claim to own any of the characters, direct quotes or the bulk of the story._

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: There are darkspawn about. <strong>

"How are you doing in there?" Alistair's called through the thin material of the tent Samantha was currently changing in. He and the quartermaster had spent some time choosing the right armour for her. She'd almost felt as though she were back in Highever with her mother and Oriana as they chose a suitable dress for her to wear to some salon or other the three of them had been invited to. As she was studied this time, however, the concern was what would fit her best rather than what looked the prettiest. She appreciated them taking the time to find something right for her. Especially considering it may mean the difference between living and dying.

"I'll be out in a moment," Samantha replied, working on tying the laces of her new boots. She was relieved that she'd taken the time to dress in the hide vest and leggings before pulling on the rest of her armour in her bedroom in Highever. The material was soft to the touch and had been tailored to fit her perfectly. The clothing would keep her warm in the days to come and they were something she could keep from home. The last things she had left, really, considering she would be selling her old armour. The new pieces were, surprisingly, a very good fit. The leather was heavier and thicker than her old pieces but that also meant they were stronger and sturdier, reinforced with metal plates embedded between the layers of the fitting brigandine covering her chest and back. The faulds they'd given her was a skirt of thick strips of the same material that fell to just above her knee. Beyond that, she was protected with hardened leather gauntlets, greaves and pauldrons. They fit her snugly and she found that she could move with satisfying ease, despite the many individual components.

Samantha straightened up and slipped her bow and quiver of arrows back over her shoulder. There was a full length mirror propped up inside the tent and she crossed to it to inspect the appearance of her new armour. It was a mixture of light browns and grey in colour and she turned her body, pleased by how well it fit her. Her eyes flickered upwards to her face and her smile fell.

"Oh, dear Maker!"

Why hadn't anyone told her how_ awful_ she looked? Her dark hair was wild and tousled from the wind, slipping free from her long braid in places. Her skin was pale and ashen with dark circles beneath her navy blue eyes. The lack of sleep she had been getting was more obvious than she would have liked.

"Samantha? Is everything alright?" Alistair called, his voice laced with concern at the sound of her exclamation. She pressed her lips together, staring disapprovingly at her reflection in the glass. _No._ Everything was most certainly not alright.

"Yes, sorry!" she called, pulling the tie from the bottom of her hair and running her hands through it in an attempt to free some of the tangles. "I'll be right there." It was ridiculous that she was even concerned with such a thing considering the circumstances but there it was; she was vain. She had grown up in a castle with conveniences that she had taken for granted and now she looked a mess and she hated it. Her fingers caught in the little knots hidden in her dark tresses and she winced as they pulled, giving up after a moment of fruitless effort. She was in much need of a bath but for now, she braided her thick hair once more so that it sat a little neater down her back. There was nothing she could do about the circles beneath her eyes but she pinched her cheeks to pull a little colour into them. The top of her left cheekbone still felt tender to the touch from where she'd taken a hit from one of Howe's men's shield and as she looked closer in the mirror, she saw that it was yellow and healing well enough. She was lucky it had not been worse.

Giving up on salvaging anything more of her appearance with a heavy sigh, Samantha lifted the canvas flap of the tent and slipped back outside. Alistair and the quartermaster turned to inspect her and she gave them a playful twirl though she felt decided more self-conscious now that she'd seen her reflection.

"That's better," Alistair smiled, tugging lightly on one of her pauldrons and seeming satisfied when it did not give beneath his grip. "You'll be better protected now."

"I feel better protected," she agreed and it was true. She felt more prepared to face the darkspawn now, though her inexperience on the battlefield kept the nervous ball of energy knotted tightly in her stomach. The ambush in Highever had been the first time she had really had to put her skills to use and she had not taken pleasure in ending a life. She would be lying if she said she was looking forward to doing it again, even if she was facing monsters now, rather than people.

"Thank you," Samantha nodded at each of them and the quartermaster beckoned her to follow him over to a locked chest he had hidden beneath one of the wooden stands. He rifled through it for a moment before producing a purse and turning back to her.

"I can give you four sovereigns for the lot if you're still looking to sell," he told her, inclining his head towards the armour she held in her hands. "It's a nicely made set, even if it isn't very practical. I should be able to get something for it once all of this is over."

Samantha glanced down, catching her lower lip between her teeth. The leathers had been a birthday gift from her parents. She hated to give them up but she had nothing since leaving Highever. Arl Howe had likely claimed her family's fortune for himself and she couldn't very well walk about, penniless.

"What about the new armour?" she asked hesitantly but the quartermaster waved his hand, dismissively and shuffled the coins in his hand as though to hurry along her decision.

"Don't worry about that. The king pays me to keep you lot outfitted. He's quite besotted with you Wardens, or so I hear. So," he shifted his weight, looking pointedly at the leathers. "What's it to be, then?"

Samantha handed them over, accepting the gold he pressed into her hand. She secured them in one of the pockets on her belt, hoping she wouldn't come to regret her decision. Perhaps if she changed her mind, he would be willing to sell it back to her later. For now, she didn't need it and she couldn't very well carry it about with her.

"We should probably get back to Duncan," Alistair commented from beside her, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. She nodded her agreement and together they made their way back towards the large campfire where the Grey Wardens took residence. Daveth and Ser Jory had returned and were eating thick slices of bread with cheese and meat. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of food and she realized that she'd yet to eat today. Hunter seemed to have found his way back to Duncan and sat at his feet now, his nose pressed into a large wooden bowl that he was enthusiastically licking clean.

"Good, you found Alistair," Duncan greeted them. "Sit down and eat while I explain the preparations. Assuming, of course, that you're quite finished riling up mages, Alistair." Duncan's tone was disapproving and he reminded her in that moment, of her father. Alistair apparently heard something similar in his voice because he ducked his head, looking a little guilty. He took a seat next to her on a large log and accepted one of the plates of food that Daveth was passing out.

"What can I say? The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army," Alistair insisted in way of his defence. Samantha might have laughed at his response but she was too busy shovelling food into her mouth. She imagined she didn't look very ladylike but there nobody here watching over her shoulder ready to scold her for her poor table manners.

"She forced you to sass the mage, did she?" Duncan arched a dark eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us."

"You're right, Duncan." Alistair's reply was muffled due to the mouthful of food he was chewing on. He did look sufficiently sorry, however, and swallowed before clearing his throat. "I apologize."

It was obvious from the respect in his voice that he thought highly of Duncan. He didn't talk back to him like he had with the mage and looked, rather endearingly, like a little boy who had been caught misbehaving.

"Now then," Duncan began, turning his attention to the three recruits. He explained to them that they would visit the Wilds, like Alistair had informed her, and collect three vials of darkspawn blood, which he hadn't.

"We're to collect their blood?" Daveth repeated, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "What in Andraste's name do we need that for?" Samantha's first thought that it would serve as proof that they were, in fact, capable of killing some of the darkspawn but Duncan ominously explained that it would be needed for the 'Joining itself' and it left her with an unsettled feeling. Something didn't seem quite right about all of this. She still hadn't been able to shake off the nervous tension in her body.

"There's more once we return?" Ser Jory asked, voicing her thoughts. He was picking apart his bread nervously, frowning at the pieces as they fell to his plate. Duncan didn't reply, telling them instead of old Grey Warden treaties that he wanted them to collect, if they could. By the time he had finished speaking, their plates were empty and their bellies full. He motioned for them to stand and Samantha felt her insides flutter nervously as their time to depart grew closer.

"Watch over your charges, Alistair," Duncan ordered. "Return quickly, and safely."

"We will," Alistair nodded and his confidence helped to settle her nerves somewhat. She reminded herself that they would not be sent out into needless danger. If the Wardens needed recruits as badly as Duncan had implied, they would not risk wasting their lives with a battle so close.

"Then may the Maker watch over your path. I will see you when you return."

The three men readied themselves and began to depart but Samantha lingered, her eyes returning to the Senior Grey Warden.

"Did you find Fergus, Duncan?" she asked, resisting the urge to take his arm and demand answers. He considered her briefly before glancing toward Alistair and the others. She hoped he would not simply send her on her way without telling her this much.

"I did not, my lady," he admitted. "I _was_ informed, however, that he and his men arrived safely just yesterday and that he is now scouting in the Wilds. Perhaps you will come across him while you are there."

Relief bloomed in Samantha's chest and she let out the breath she had been holding. He was alive! Thank the Maker. At least she had not lost him, too.

"Good._ Good_," she laughed lightly, feeling a little giddy as some of the worry slipped from her shoulders. "Thank you, Duncan." He nodded, returning her smile briefly before ushering her on.

"Hurry and join the others before they leave without you. Your mabari can remain here with me until you return." Hunter looked up from his bowl once he was mentioned and she ordered him to stay before turning and jogging after the others. Alistair and Ser Jory were walking ahead so Samantha fell into step beside Daveth as they passed through the gates, which were immediately closed and barred again behind them.

"I guess there's no turning back now," he remarked but Samantha's mood was high after learning that Fergus was alright and she no longer felt so anxious about the task ahead.

"We'll be alright," she replied. "I'll watch your back if you watch mine." Daveth grinned, arching an eyebrow at her, leisurely travelling her body with his eyes.

"Oh, I'll watch your back alright," he agreed with a flirtatious eagerness which evoked a surprised laugh from her. He was lucky he'd caught her in good spirits or she might not have been so generous with her response.

"Well, don't get too distracted back there. We have darkspawn to kill, remember," she returned with a smirk as she drew her bow from off her arm, holding it loose and ready in her hand.

"_Al_right, you two." Alistair interrupted, drawing out the word. He had turned around to face them as they lagged behind a few steps. "Let's get a move on. We need to return to Duncan as quickly as possible."

* * *

><p>Samantha had almost been expecting to be ambushed as soon as they stepped off the trodden dirt path and onto the marshy land but it was some time before there was any disturbance from the eerie quiet of the Wilds. The air was pungent; sickeningly sweet like something rotting and its constant assault on her senses had begun to give her a mild headache. It was still early in the day but even so, the wilderness around them was cloaked in shadow; the thick trees and winding vines doing everything they could to block out the light. It was a wonder anything ever grew here. The atmosphere was unsettling and Samantha could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. Every now and then, a raven would fly overhead and caw, startling each of the recruits. Every time it happened, they would jump and she and Daveth would giggle at their own foolishness while Alistair sighed with false impatience to hide his smiling.<p>

Of course, the peace was not to last.

Samantha's eyes were constantly flickering about, desperately seeking for some sign of Fergus. She was so focused that when she first felt the light tickling on her neck, she simply brushed her fingers over the area without paying it much mind. It started up again, however, this time on her upper arm, just below where one of her pauldrons rested. She glanced down, lifting her hand to scratch at her skin until her eyes came to rest on the large, hairy spider that was scurrying down her arm. Samantha emitted a bloodcurdling scream and ferociously brushed at the hideous monstrosity, quickly losing sight of it as it fell which only caused her panic to rise.

Alistair spun immediately at the sound, tearing his sword out of its sheath while Daveth leapt away from her in surprise, his own hands reaching for his blades.

"Get it off me! Get it _off_!" Samantha cried in a panic, leaping about and tugging at her brigandine, despite the fact that it was firmly clasped into place. If the spider was on it, she wanted it off! Alistair rushed forward, gripping her shoulder with one hand and giving her a firm shake.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, his eyes searching her for some sign of the creature she was so frightened of. He dropped his sword and turned her around, checking her for what he likely expected was some sort of poisonous beast.

"Oh _Maker_!" she whimpered in terror. "I could feel it crawling on my neck! Where is it?" she demanded, shuddering and leaping from one foot to the other. She forced down the almost overwhelming desire to hop up and cling onto Alistair so that she didn't have to be standing on the ground, where it had likely fallen. He caught her wrists and pulled her hands away from her armour before she could damage it in her haste to have it off.

"Is this the source of your panic, my _lady_?" Ser Jory's voice was flat and disapproving and as she glanced his way, she saw that he had the damned thing crawling up the edge of the sword he had pointed at them. Samantha screamed again, darting to hide behind Alistair. Daveth erupted into laughter, doubling over and she shot a dark look his way. Not that he seemed to notice.

"Maker's blood! You would risk alerting the darkspawn to our location over a little _spider_?" Jory fumed, flicking it off his blade and into the forestry.

"It wasn't little," Samantha insisted in a small voice, heat rushing to her face as her panic subsided and embarrassment set in. Alistair had turned to look at her again, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. Daveth hadn't quite finished laughing.

"See the way she started tearing her armour off? Easier to take on spiders without your clothes, is it?" he teased, leaning against a tree with his forearm while the other moved around his middle. She frowned, not amused that he found it so comical.

"Why would Duncan send her with us when she frightens over such things?" Jory demanded, the respect he'd shown her once he'd learned she was a Cousland, vanishing in an instant. She scowled, hating that she suddenly seemed the weak one of the group and hating even more that the memory of her family's skill on the battlefield was being tarnished by this inconvenient incident. She had let them down enough, already.

"Now, Ser Jory," Alistair chided. "Each of you were recruited because Duncan believes you have what it takes to make a good Warden. Everyone's afraid of something," he shrugged and Samantha was both pleased and aggravated that he was defending her. Although she appreciated that he didn't think less of her abilities despite her girlish response to the harmless spider, she didn't want to others to think she needed anyone to come to her rescue.

"You _do_ realize that we are going to face darkspawn though, right?" Alistair asked, his eyes sliding back to Samantha. There was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips and she crossed her arms defensively over her chest once she'd lifted her bow from where she'd dropped it.

"Shut up," she huffed. "That's different."

"How so?"

"It just… _is_," she insisted, stalking forward a few paces before freezing and listening hard. "Shh," she hushed Daveth as he continued to snicker behind her. "Listen… do you hear that?" They fell silent, all trace of amusement or irritation disappearing as they strained to hear any sounds in the oppressively silent woods. There it was again, a soft groaning from some creature in the distance. Samantha's hand tightened around her bow.

"Someone's calling for help," Jory commented, still a little further ahead of the rest. Alistair began jogging forward and Samantha followed quickly behind him, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest. What if it was Fergus? Or some of his men? She resisted the urge to call out, unwilling to have Ser Jory on her case once more.

"Wait," the knight himself called quietly as he and Daveth hurried after them. "What if it's a trap?" Alistair didn't slow so she kept her pace. After all, the darkspawn weren't intelligent enough to do something like that, were they? Of course, there were other things to fear in the Wilds, too. Daveth had whispered stories to her about Flemeth and the Witches of the Wilds while they walked. They had been fascinating and mostly unbelievable but even so, she felt uneasy recalling them now.

"It's not," Alistair assured them, though Samantha didn't know how he could be so quietly confident about what lay ahead of them. He was right, as it turned out. As they broke through the trees into onto another dirt path, a man called out to them from where he lay injured on the ground a little way ahead. Bodies were scattered about the area around him and a cart had been destroyed in what had obviously been an attack. Samantha scanned the fallen men quickly; almost afraid to look at their faces in case one of them was her brother. They were all unfamiliar to her and she let out a guilty sigh of relief.

"Who… is that? Grey… Wardens?" The man struggled to ask as they hurried to him. He clutched his waist with one arm and gasped in pain every time he moved. Samantha knelt down next to him, panic slicing through her like a warm knife through butter. All she could see was her father, kneeling on the cold stone floor of the pantry, reaching out to her. She shook her head to rid herself of the image and helped the injured man sit up.

"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair observed, making light of the situation and she shot him a dark look. He seemed a little taken aback and then looked sufficiently ashamed of himself, rubbing the back of his head and clearing his throat.

"My… scouting band was attacked by darkspawn! They came out of the ground… Please, help me! I've got to… return to camp…" he insisted. His grip tightened on Samantha's forearm and her eyes widened at his words, suddenly paranoid that they would explode up from the dirt beneath her. He winced in pain again, his breathing laboured.

"Tell me, was Fergus Cousland with you? Or any of the men from Highever?" she asked, trying to be sensitive of his pain but needing to know all the same. He shook his head.

"Not with us, my lady. We left before any reinforcements arrived from Highever."

Samantha nodded, not feeling very relieved. She turned her head, her eyes seeking Alistair's.

"We can help him back to camp, can't we?" she asked. He was leading them after all and she didn't want to make decisions for the group when it wasn't her place to. Alistair looked uncomfortable and shifted his weight.

"There's no time," he murmured, his voice apologetic. "We have to ensure we're back by nightfall. We don't want to risk being here when the darkspawn reach Ostagar."

"We can't just leave him here," she argued, frowning in disapproval. Alistair knelt next to her and slipped his pack off his shoulder.

"I have bandages and a poultice with me," he informed them, rooting through the knapsack and passing them to Samantha as he found them. "We can patch him up but he'll have to make his own way back to camp." He helped the man remove his breastplate and pulled up his undershirt so that she could pour the poultice over the wound on his side. He winced and hissed in pain as the glowing red liquid sizzled on his skin; knotting back flesh and torn muscle. The area remained inflamed and scarred but at least he would not lose any further blood. Samantha wrapped the bandages firmly around his middle, ensuring that they were not too tight, and then Alistair redressed him. They helped him to his feet and he groaned, but stood on his own well enough.

"Thank you," he nodded, wiping his damp brow with a gauntleted hand. "Maker watch over you all."

"Did you hear?" Jory asked once the soldier was out of sight and Alistair had returned his things to his pack. "A whole patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn!"

"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair soothed as he rose to his feet. "We'll be fine if we're careful." The knight didn't seem entirely convinced and glanced about them feverishly as though he was afraid they would be ambushed.

"Those men were careful and they were still overwhelmed. How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred?" His voice began to rise with his panic and it made Samantha doubt that they would succeed in surviving this. "There's an entire _army_ in these forests."

"There are darkspawn about but we're in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde," Alistair insisted calmly, trudging forward and motioning for the others to follow behind.

"How do you know?" Jory demanded, refusing to give up his position. Samantha took a few steps towards Alistair but hesitated when he sighed and came to a stop. "I'm not a coward," the knight continued. "But this is foolish and reckless. We should go back." Samantha resisted pointing out that he certainly _sounded_ like a coward and was quietly proud of herself for it. It would have been nice to point out that he seemed more frightened than she did, despite his earlier words about her scaring so easily.

"Know this," Alistair turned, looking at each of them in turn. "All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever happens, I guarantee they won't take us by surprise. That's why I'm here." He said the last part slowly as though to emphasize his point. It put her mind at ease, if nothing else. At least now they knew they could properly prepare themselves whenever the darkspawn _did_ make an appearance.

"You see, ser knight?" Daveth's voice was cheerful as he moved around Jory. He slapped a hand on his shoulder. "We might die, but we'll be warned about it, first."

* * *

><p>They did not have to wait long. Merely moments after leaving the soldier, Alistair came to a stop and lifted a hand to quiet the small group. He tilted his head a little, seeming to listen to something that they couldn't hear, and then he motioned them around him.<p>

"Darkspawn up ahead," he warned them, his voice low. Ser Jory let out a strangled breath beside her and she tried to hold in her childish giggle, brought on by nervous anticipation. "About a half dozen, give or take."

"Wow, you can really tell? We can't even see them yet," Samantha whispered, looking up at him with fascinated curiosity. What a helpful tool that was but it made her anxious about this 'joining ritual'. Clearly there was some kind of magic involved if it produced abilities such as this.

Alistair nodded. "They've likely sensed me by now. Don't worry; they're easy enough to cut down once you keep your wits about you. Don't let them overwhelm you and don't get boxed in somewhere." He drew his sword gently, trying to keep the scraping of metal to a minimum. "You can do this, just _stay alert_."

Alistair had succeeded in bolstering the young woman's courage with his speech and while she could not speak for the other recruits, she felt determined and ready to face the darkspawn. She was eager to earn her place and prove that she deserved to be here as much as the two men that stood beside her. Pulling an arrow from the quiver on her back, she nocked it, pointed downwards, while she waited for Alistair's instruction.

"They're coming. Get ready," he whispered, motioning silently for her to move on top of a nearby ledge. She nodded, jogging quietly up the grassy slope where she had a vantage point of the open area in front of her. From her height she could see the remnants of an old building and the shadows that flickered about within. There was little left but broken down stone walls but she had no clear shot of any of the darkspawn from here. Her eyes flickered back to Alistair and she saw him giving direction to Daveth and Ser Jory before the three of them moved forward and spread out.

A figure finally emerged from the ruins and Samantha's grip tightened on her bow. She let out a slow breath, lining up her shot and waiting until the creature was a few spaces into the clearing. It paused, turning its misshapen head in search of something, and she took the moment of stillness to release the bowstring. The arrow shot silently through the air and erupted through the darkspawn's chest. It flew backwards from the impact and its cries, like she had hoped, drew the rest of the blighted creatures out. She managed to send a second arrow into the darkspawn she had shot down before the smell hit her. Samantha gagged, her focus breaking temporarily as she choked on the foul stench the beasts carried with them. It was thick and smothering and each time she inhaled, it felt as though a layer of grime built up in her throat. She spat, disgusted, and then shook herself. She needed to focus. The others were relying on her to protect their backs.

The sound of blades clashing and roars of anger soon filled the too quiet woods and Samantha kept her eyes trained on her companions, firing off arrows only when she was sure she could get a clean shot. Her hands were shaking from adrenaline and the horror of what she was seeing. The darkspawn were monstrous beyond belief. Their bodies seemed strangely distorted and unnatural and their skin was uneven and scaled as though they had been badly burned. Parts of their faces were torn and oozing and their eyes, glazed and milky white. The worst was their mouths, however. They had no lips that she could see and their faces were stretched into a constant demonic grin; sharp yellow teeth stained with blood and filth. Samantha's stomach twisted at the sight of them. This was unnatural. This was w_rong._ They carried crude weapons that barely looked as though they would hold together but clearly they were strong. She could see it in the effort Alistair had to put behind his shield to keep them back.

Sharp claws closed around Samantha's ankle and pulled hard. Between the surprise and the damp grass, she lost her footing and came crashing down onto her back. Her head hit the hard earth with a dull _thud_ and the air was knocked from her lungs. She gasped, desperately trying to inhale despite the stench. Her eyes snapped down to the short darkspawn with pointed, elf-like ears. A genlock. It used its grip on her leg to pull her forward; it's pointed nails pressing painfully into her leather boots. She saw the filthy axe it raised in its other hand and her eyes widened. Lifting her other foot, Samantha kicked the creature's snout, putting all her strength behind it. She both felt and heard the sickening crunch of bone beneath her foot and her stomach rolled. The creature roared, releasing her to clutch at its face and she scrambled to her feet, tearing a dagger from her waist. She looked on in fascinated horror as thick, black ichor poured from its broken maw. It hissed, diving towards her again but she was ready this time and she had the advantage of height. As the axe swung towards her, she twisted and grabbed the genlock's ear; pulling it towards her and slitting its throat with her blade. She pushed it away as it twitched and gurgled, letting it fall.

Something grabbed her shoulder and Samantha spun, her dagger rising in defence but Alistair caught her wrist before she could hurt him.

"Sorry. It's just me. I called your name," he told her, panting softly from exertion. His hair was damp and wild and his cheeks pink but he seemed unharmed. Daveth was tending to a wound on his arm behind him and Ser Jory was moving to sit down on a fallen tree trunk.

"I didn't hear._ I'm_ sorry." She had been the one to nearly cut his ear off, after all. He released her arm and she returned her blade to her waist, lifting her bow up off the ground. She winced as she bent, pain shooting through her leg and Alistair frowned as he noticed.

"You're hurt."

"No. It's just a sprain. I'll be fine," she insisted, leaning against the grass bank while she tested her ankle. She could move it, though it hurt, but there was no cause for alarm. Alistair looked as though he was going to say something but then she laughed and his expression changed to one of surprise as his gaze returning to hers.  
>"We did it! We actually killed darkspawn!" she cheered, the adrenaline pumping through her making her feel giddy and invincible. Alistair returned her grin, his eyes creasing in a way that made him look distinctly more attractive, despite the gore splattered across his face.<p>

"Don't get too excited. We still have the treaties to collect, remember?" he reminded her, though he seemed relieved that the skirmish had gone well. Nobody had died, at least. Well, except for all the darkspawn.

"I'll fill the vials and then we can move on. We're not far from the old Warden outpost, now. Maybe we'll even get back to camp in time for dinner." His eyes lit up at the idea and he hurriedly removed the three empty containers from his pack, bending to the darkspawn beside her to harvest some of its blood. Samantha grimaced and looked away, watching Daveth and Ser Jory cross the clearing to them.

"How can you think about food while you do that?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. The smell alone was bad enough but the thick, dark blood made her feel nauseous.

"You get used to it," he assured her brightly.

She wasn't sure she wanted to.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Part of me wants to skip ahead and just get to all the fun and fluffy and sexy stuff but I must learn to have patience! In the meantime, you should review to encourage me to get chapters out faster. Seriously, it works. Thanks to everyone whose been reading and to the three lovely people who are following the story. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed this one and let me know what you'd like to see in the future._


	4. Chapter 4: Zap! Frog time

_This is a retelling of the human noble story in the video game Dragon Age: Origins. All of which is property of Bioware and David Gaider. I'm simply putting it into words and taking a few liberties here and there. No copyright infringement intended. I do not claim to own any of the characters, direct quotes or the bulk of the story._

_This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful WildLazyBones. Thank you for your lovely review._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Zap! Frog time.<strong>

There had been more darkspawn to kill as they continued their journey further into the Wilds. Samantha was attempting to hide her limp, keeping to the back of the group as often as she could. It became more difficult during combat but she managed not to get herself killed. The dull ache had changed to a burning itch that was radiating further up her leg the longer they walked. She did her best not to slow them down but she had begun to lag behind.

"These are the ruins Duncan wanted us to find." Alistair stopped and pointed, unknowingly giving her time to catch up. "Let's search for those treaties."

The old Warden outpost was just ahead of them up a slope in the grassy clearing. 'Ruin' was definitely the right word to describe it. Only parts of the walls and pillars remained and there was a large, stone staircase though it did not lead anywhere. It seemed likely that the rest of the upper building had crumbled to the ground long ago. Samantha worried that they might not find the treaties among all the rubble and debris.

They began to search what was left of the building. The air was thick with dust and decay and Samantha coughed as it settled in her lungs. She tried to focus on the task at hand but the pain in her leg was distracting and all she could think about was how much she was dreading the walk back to Ostagar.

"It's empty."

Samantha turned to see Alistair crouched down over a broken chest. They gathered behind him and watched as he moved the shattered top and pressed the sides of the strongbox; searching for some hidden compartment where the treaties might be sealed. From his frustrated sigh, however, Samantha guessed that there truly was nothing there.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

The voice was lilting and unfamiliar, and Samantha spun around, her eyes coming to rest on a beautiful, dark haired woman. She was descending the stone staircase, seemingly coming from nowhere considering the upper level was almost completely missing. The group watched her in surprised silence.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder?" she continued when nobody spoke right away. "A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned. Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" Samantha could see that she was a mage from the staff she held in her hand and not because of the robes she wore. They were unlike any she had ever seen, and revealed rather a lot of her womanly figure.

"I have watched your progress for some time. 'Where do they go?' I wondered. 'Why are they here?' And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?"

"Don't answer her," Alistair warned the group, quietly. "She looks Chasind and that means others may be nearby."

"Ooh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" The strange woman mocked, wiggling her fingers at Alistair as glided around him. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"Yes. Swooping is _bad_." He drew out the word, evoking a quiet snicker from Samantha.

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is." Daveth whispered, looking anxious. Samantha was surprised considering he had been seemingly fascinated by the stories he recounted to her just earlier that day. "She'll turn us into toads!"

"Witch of the Wilds?" The woman chuckled, turning to face them. She set down her staff and rested her weight against it. "Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" Her exotically golden eyes moved past the three men and rested on Samantha. She shifted her weight, unsure why she had drawn attention when she had yet to speak.

"You there, women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine," she reasoned, arching a dark eyebrow. "Let us be civilized."

Samantha hesitated for a fraction of a second. Her gaze shifted to Alistair briefly but he seemed to be waiting to see what she would do. The young woman turned her attention back to the stranger and decided that it couldn't hurt to offer her name.

"You may call me Samantha."

One corner of the woman's mouth tugged upwards a little and she straightened. "And you may call _me_, Morrigan, if it pleases you." Her strange, yellow eyes flickered to the broken chest by Alistair's feet and she spoke once more. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest? Something that is here, no longer?"

"Here no longer?" Alistair repeated, taking a step towards her. "You stole them, didn't you?" he accused, his forehead creasing in a frown. "You're… some kind of sneaky… witch-thief!"

"How very eloquent," Morrigan scoffed."How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems," Alistair replied, dryly. "Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them." Morrigan made a noise of distaste, tilting her head back slightly and angling her nose upwards.

"I will not, for 'twas not _I _who removed them." She narrowed her eyes at Alistair. "Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; _I_ am not threatened."

The tension in the air was palpable and Samantha stepped forward, her breath catching in her throat as her leg objected to the movement. She did her best to ignore it.

"But you know who it was?" she asked. The sooner they got an answer, the sooner they could journey back to Ostagar. She was feeling drained and nauseous now and all she wanted to do was rest and take off her boots for a little while. Morrigan considered the other woman for a moment before answering.

"'Twas my mother, in fact."

"Your mother?" Samantha repeated, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Morrigan frowned in response, shifting her weight to one leg and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, my _mother_. Did you assume I spawned from a log?"

"Ah, no. I didn't mean..." Samantha began, attempting to smooth over what had sounded like an insult. It didn't help that beside her, Alistair snorted in amusement.

"A thieving, weird-talking log, perhaps," he muttered quietly but Morrigan shot him a dark look, clearly having heard.

"Not all in the Wilds are monsters," Morrigan said firmly, her scowl still in place. "Flowers grow as _well_ as toads."

"Well, could you take us to her?" Samantha asked, hoping to guide the conversation into safer and more productive territory. "To retrieve the treaties?"

"_There_ is a sensible request," Morrigan approved after a second more of looking towards Alistair in distaste. She smirked again as her eyes met Samantha's. "I like you."

"I'd be careful," Alistair warned in her ear. "First it's _'I like you'_ but then ZAP! Frog time." Samantha giggled childishly and Morrigan's smirk dissolved into another frown.

"We _should _get those treaties but..," Alistair sighed, his voice low. He ran a hand through his already distractingly messy hair. "I dislike this; Morrigan's sudden appearance. It's too convenient."

Daveth and Jory shared a look, seemingly unsure about this themselves. Samantha was a little surprised that they all seemed so nervous of this woman, despite Daveth's stories of the Witches of the Wilds.

"We've come all this way," Samantha reminded them. It had not been an entirely painless journey, either, and she did not want it to have gone to waste. "Besides, she can't be any worse than the darkspawn."

"She'll put us all in a pot, she will," Daveth muttered unhappily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just you watch."

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'll be a nice change." Ser Jory mused, glancing at Alistair for his decision. He sighed once more and nodded, and the four of them returned their attention to Morrigan.

"Follow me then, if it pleases you."

* * *

><p>Samantha wasn't sure what she had been expecting when Morrigan had offered to bring them to her mother but it certainly hadn't been a solitary little hut-like building in the middle of the Wilds. She supposed she had imagined that she might have led them to a Chasind encampment or something of the sort. It seemed so bizarre to her that they lived here alone.<p>

The hut was situated next to a murky lake and standing next to the water's edge was an elderly woman with wild, wiry, grey hair in a faded brown dress. She settled her hands on her hips as she watched the group approach.

"Greetings, Mother. I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-"

"I see them girl," the elderly woman interrupted. "Hmm, much as I expected," she mused, studying each of them in turn. There was something in her eyes as they came to rest on Samantha that made her nervous. Maybe she really did want to put them in a pot!

"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair asked, his eyes practically rolling out of his head. Morrigan's mother did not seem very amused by his attitude.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open ones arms wide… either way, ones a fool," she scoffed. It went on like this for a little while. Morrigan's mother continued to speak in cryptic riddles and teased Morrigan about entertaining the idea of them being Witches of the Wilds. Daveth maintained that they _were_ and continued to mumble that they should leave before something irreversible happened. The old woman took that moment to announce that she had the scrolls and had been protecting them. She handed them to Alistair, exchanging a few more cryptic words, before encouraging Morrigan to lead the group back to Ostagar.

* * *

><p>It was a relief to see the gates of Ostagar once more. Morrigan had somehow known how to avoid the path of the darkspawn and they returned quicker than they had expected. Samantha had not been able to keep up towards the end of their journey. Morrigan had been the one to notice, despite the fact that she had been leading the group.<p>

"One of your recruits is injured," she had said to Alistair, flicking her wrist over her shoulder in her general direction. The three men had turned to look at her, much to her dismay, and she struggled to keep the limp from her step as she tried to keep pace. She felt winded and her skin was clammy and damp but the hot pain travelling up her leg was by far the worst thing.

"I knew you were hurt," Alistair sighed, looking guilty as he pulled his shield from his back and passed it to Jory. When he reached her side, he pulled her arm over his shoulder, bending his knees to keep himself more at her height as he helped her walk. His own arm settled around her waist and he supported her weight as they continued forward once more.

"Have you been in pain all this time? Why didn't you say anything?" he asked her quietly, his eyes cast down. She could see that he was blaming himself for not noticing and she patted the hand at her waist, reassuringly.

"And prove Ser Jory right when he said I shouldn't be here? No. Besides, it's not so bad," she lied. It was a little easier to walk with Alistair helping her but the pain didn't lessen any.

"Who cares what the others think. They don't know you."

"And you do?"

"No..," he allowed, sighing once more. "But I know Duncan, and he wouldn't have recruited you if he wasn't sure you were capable of this."

Samantha wasn't certain she agreed but it was a relief to hear him say it all the same. She didn't want to be the helpless woman who needed a man to fight for her. She wanted to be strong and capable. She wanted the respect of her brothers in arms.

"Thank you," she said finally. He offered her one of those warm smiles of his and she couldn't help but return it, despite the discomfort in her body.

"This is where I will leave you," Morrigan announced, coming to a stop. Daveth let out what appeared to be a sigh of relief, and her golden eyes narrowed at him.

"Thank you for your aid, Morrigan." Samantha lifted her hand for the other woman to shake but Morrigan simply moved past her and towards the archway of trees that lead back into the depths of the Wilds.

"I wish you luck against the darkspawn, Wardens," she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the darkness.

Duncan greeted them as they returned to camp. He looked relieved to see them all intact but his eyes lingered on how Alistair helped Samantha sit down in front of the campfire. Hunter bounded over, pushing his oversized head into his mistresses' arms and pressed his wet nose against her neck. She laughed though it was a little strained and he whined as he noticed her distress.

"I missed you," she cooed, scratching behind his ears as he plonked himself down next to her, stumpy tail thudding enthusiastically against the ground. He licked her hands and then rested his head on her thigh.

"So you return from the Wilds," Duncan spoke, drawing her attention to him once more. "Have you been successful?"

"Yes. We managed to get the treaties," Alistair informed him as he stood up once more. "They were being 'protected' by a woman and her mother. They were both very... odd."

Daveth shuddered at the mention of Morrigan and her mother and shifted closer to the fire, lifting his hands to warm them in the heat of the flames.

"Were they Wilder folk?" Duncan asked and Alistair shook his head, his eyebrows coming together.

"I don't think so. They may be apostates."

"I know you were once a Templar, Alistair," Duncan began, surprising Samantha. "But Chantry business is not ours."

"You were?" she asked, unable to quell her curiosity. He looked towards her and rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly.

"Well, almost," he answered, his eyes flickering back to his fellow Grey Warden. "Duncan recruited me before I could take my vows."

Samantha would have liked to ask him more about his time as a templar recruit but Duncan was eager to continue with the ritual, it seemed, and pressed on before they could get distracted.

"Hold on to the scrolls for now, Alistair," he insisted as he took the three vials of blood from him. "I've had the circle mages preparing in your absence. Once we've incorporated the blood you've collected, we can begin the joining. For now, rest." His eyes moved to each of the recruits in turn, lingering on Samantha where she sat. She nodded. "I will send for you once we are ready."

"There's likely some stew left over from dinner," Alistair told Jory and Daveth. "Go fetch some for us and we'll eat it here while we wait for Duncan to return. It's best that we remain where he can easily find us." He turned back to Samantha, crouching down next to her as she struggled to remove her boot. His large, warm hands pushed her own shaking hands away and he pulled the laces loose easily.

"Should I look for a healer?" he offered, his forehead creased as he carefully loosened her boot from her ankle. He gently pulled it free from her foot and she winced as the movement caused her some pain. He gave her an apologetic look and started to roll up her soft leggings.

"Maker's breath, what's happened to me?" Samantha gasped, her eyes widening in fright as she looked at her leg. There were three lacerations around her ankle and from them her veins ran too obvious and navy blue up her leg. The rest of her skin was pale except for around the three small wounds where it was dark and mottled.

Alistair hadn't spoken and he lifted her boot to inspect it, his expression unreadable as his fingers brushed against the small slices in the fabric at the ankle. "Darkspawn corruption. You've contracted the Blight."

"No." Panic seized her and she began to hyperventilate, her vision swimming dangerously. Faintly she could hear Hunter growling and Alistair's voice as he tried to calm her. She felt warm hands on her shoulders, gently shaking her.

"Samantha. Calm down. It's going to be alright."

"Alright? I'm going to die!" she wailed, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Listen to me," Alistair insisted firmly, his hands tightening on her shoulders. She forced herself to look at him and was quiet apart from her ragged breathing. His face was pale and grim but he kept his eyes on hers.

"The Joining Ritual will heal you," he said quietly, his eyes leaving hers to move across the people around them. She blinked at him, some tears falling free and slipping down her cheeks. She lifted shaking hands to brush them away quickly before he could see. His hands released her shoulders and he moved to sit beside her.

"What?" Her mind was racing as she began to calm down and despite her overly hot skin, she shivered. Hunter pressed against her, whining in concern. She pulled him close, her arms wrapping around his thick neck. "Heal me, you say. Something isn't right about this ritual. That's why it's such a secret, isn't it? What is it, some kind of blood magic?"

"No," Alistair objected at once, but he didn't look so sure. Perhaps it was the templar recruit in him that didn't want to see it for what it was. Or perhaps he was telling the truth and his mind was on other things. "You'll find out soon enough. You know I can't say more."

Samantha felt increasingly more nervous about the Joining but if it did heal her, it couldn't be all bad. Grey Wardens were instrumental to ending the Blights, after all. She thought of the blood they had collected and a wave of nausea washed over her.

"It will really heal me?"

"Yes," Alistair replied. He sounded tired and she glanced sideways at him. His eyes were on the roaring fire in front of them and his expression was unreadable once more. She took some comfort from that. She didn't think he would lie to her about something so serious. Leaning forward, she rolled her legging back down, covering her unnatural looking skin. She cringed at the pain and sat back again, closing her eyes. Exhaustion hit her very suddenly and her eyelids felt too heavy to open again. She felt completely miserable and she was smeared with blood and sweat but the warmth from the fire was making her sleepy and she didn't want to have to move. She shifted so that she was resting her head on Hunter's side, letting out a heavy breath. She listened to the strong, steady thud of his heartbeat and tried to clear her mind from the mess she was living, letting the reassuring beat lull her into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I hadn't actually planned on giving Samantha the Corruption, it just kind of happened, but I felt like this would be good for her character. She needed that push to keep her from running off to find Fergus and actually go through with the Joining. The next chapter will deal with the Joining Ritual. _

_Hello and thank you to the two new followers. Thank you for reading and please review. I love hearing what people think and if there's things I should tweak or change. Love you all! _


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